


If Time Could Stand Still

by WeCryde (Cryde2Me)



Category: South Park
Genre: Best Friends, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-03-21 13:36:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3694244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cryde2Me/pseuds/WeCryde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Valentine's Exchange gift for  Vampiracy. The prompt was Craig and Clyde are friends with benefits, but then later turn into real boyfriends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. And So the World Keeps Revolving

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vampiracy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vampiracy/gifts).



The door slammed open with a shuddering bang. It bounced against the wall, hitting Clyde in the shoulder as he burst through the door with an armful of boxes.

"What I'd say? Was I right or was I right?" The brunette dumped what he was holding onto the floor, and turned around to face his friend. Like a self-satisfied cat with a bowl full of milk, a smug smile peaked out from the corners of his mouth. "Told you we'd make it with time to spare."

Craig rolled his eyes, kicking the door shut behind him. The box of clothes he carried, he set it on top of a different one labeled "bed and stuff."

"Right, time to spare," the sarcastic teen drawled, "What was supposed to be a one day drive to New York turned into three, Clyde. My flight leaves in fucking ten hours."

"Then you better hurry up and help me unpack. You don't expect me to do this all by myself do you? My roommate is supposed to come in later this week. Can't leave a bad impression, ya know?"

Scoffing, Craig shoved at his best friend's head as he walked past. They both knew without it being said aloud, Craig coming all the way here with Clyde was something in and of itself. He didn't have to, but he did, spending his own hard earned money to help pay for gas and his own flight back home to South Park. If Jimmy and Token had tagged along for the ride, the trip would've been less expensive split among four people, but Clyde never mentioned it to them; never invited them to come. Perhaps it was callous of him to treat his friends as such, but the last few days he had left...For reasons he didn't want to delve into, he needed it where it was just him and Craig alone. 

Craig leaned against the window overlooking the city streets. Life here seemed busy, so different from their hometown in Colorado. Cars lined the roads, honking, blaring while a throng of people bustled about. Even at night, New York City was a lively place; perfect for an idealistic person like Clyde to mature. There will always be something here for him to do, to preoccupy his time. Someone as outgoing, as exuberant and friendly as Clyde, will find a new group of friends in no time. Soon enough, he'll forget about his life back at South Park and the people. 

"So this is where you're going to live from now on." Craig didn't take his eyes off the glass. "Fun. Too bad I didn't get into college here."

Dusting off his hands on his knees, Clyde joined Craig by the window. Playfully, he punched the noirette on his shoulder. "Pfft, whatever. You're going to a big city too." He turned to look out at the view, and lights from the billboards and signs flickered across his face. "L.A. isn't that different from here. Probably more wild, I think. I'm surprised you chose to go there for college."

Craig shrugged. "Good film program there. Thought I'd give it a shot. Who knows."

"Ah..." There was nothing else Clyde could say to that so he stayed quiet. Without another word to each other, they stood side by side, staring out the window as the world passed them by. Seconds turned into minutes, each of them counting down the hours until Craig would fly back home while Clyde stayed here. Ten hours wasn't much time left. 

After a long period of silence, Craig finally spoke, "Clyde."

"Hm?" Clyde turned to the noirette. He caught a glimpse of piercing blue eyes before Craig grabbed him by the back of his neck and kissed him. 

They didn't speak- nothing needed to be said. Silently and mutually, they stumble their way to Clyde's bare, unmade bed, stripping off one another's clothes and running hands over each other's body .

Clyde lost count of how many times they've kissed, and over the years, they've gone so much further than that. Back in middle school, it started off as a joke, something that could be laughed off between guy friends. However, the chaste kiss they did as a dare became a secret that bound them even closer together. Between playing around and idle curiosity, they kissed again and again until one day Craig decided to jerk Clyde off. They didn't make a big deal out of it, because it wasn't. Who cared if they helped each other masturbate? They were friends- best friends- that had no one else to fuck. Might as well give a guy a helping hand right? Ha.

The "joke" soon developed into how they fucked each other behind everyone's back without anyone suspecting a thing. Once they crossed that line- unable to stop themselves from wanting more- they quickly established a rule between them. So long as the both of them remained single, they could use each other for sexual release.

When they had sex, it was just that- pure, unadulterated fucking. It was the best part of being friends with benefits; there was no romantic attachments, no sugarcoated words, no coaxing. If they wanted to fuck, they simply told each other when and where and how they wanted it. Everything was clear cut between them.

Or at least it was supposed to be. As their senior year approached, and they chose colleges on opposite ends of the U.S., something changed. The lust that usually fueled their passion was gradually replaced by something else.

Clyde could taste that something on Craig's lips. Over the thousands of kisses they've shared, this one was different. He couldn't explain it, but it tasted of farewell and sadness, if one could taste such a thing. 

The way Craig touched him, held him- everything about it was gentle and tender. Never before did Craig linger as if he wanted to savor him, memorize the outlines of his body. Ever since they started sleeping together, this is the sweetest, most intimate moment they've shared. Every kiss on his skin was a whispered worship. Clyde felt special, adored...So why was there a lump in his throat? Why did he want to start crying and never stop?

With no bed sheets, no pillow, no blankets, the only warmth they had was each other. When Craig pressed against Clyde, when their bodies connected and heat seeped into his deepest warmth, Clyde clung to the noirette with desperation. A fire was burning inside him, growing hotter and hotter with each stroke and caress upon his body. Dying, burning up from the pleasure filled agony, a moan so close to despair escaped his lips as found his reprieve in Craig's rigid frame. The feel of Craig on his fevered skin was like a balm of salvation. Sweat dripped down his body and he wondered if he was melting from the heat. But he didn't care. Beyond this moment, Clyde didn't want to think about what the future had in store for them.

Naked, in a tangle of limbs, they fell asleep in each other's arms.

The next morning, when Clyde woke up, the box with the bedding was opened and a blanket was pulled up to his shoulders. 

But Craig was gone. 

No note, no text. In the middle of the night, Craig simply walked out to catch a cab to airport. He left without saying goodbye.


	2. Four years from now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Craig's POV, and the conclusion.

Winter break started for him two days ago. Rather than go home, Craig opted to stay in his dorm. With its warm weather and sandy beaches, California beat South Park hands down any day. He had no reason to leave. It wasn't as if anyone missed him back home. Not his parents, not his friends. Why waste perfectly good money on something he didn't need?

_Lies. All of it fucking lies, you fucking coward._

Craig scowled. If only he could tell the voice inside his head to shut up, he'd be _so_ happy.

Truthfully- not that he was going to admit it- he wanted to go back, but couldn't. Something, or more precisely, someone stopped him.

Where did he go wrong, Craig wondered. When did he mess up so badly, he was afraid to go home and face his mistake, face Clyde? It's been a little over three months since he last saw the brunette, but the mere thought of him still made his heart clench. The scar was still fresh; he remembered the soft skin beneath his hands; dreamt of Clyde's body writhing, panting under him like it has hundreds, thousands of times.

Craig rolled over to his side, the ache in his chest a familiar friend. It was his fault. All of his damn fault. He should've told Clyde from the start he liked him. Instead, he covered it up with a joke, allowing whatever he had with Clyde to continue for longer than it should have. Clyde thought their "arrangement" was a culmination of two horny boys looking for a convenient fuck, but it always meant more than that to Craig; Clyde always meant something more.

And now he fucking ruined everything with his own two hands because he couldn't keep his dick in his pants. He couldn't stop himself, couldn't break away because he loved Clyde, and being near him- touching, kissing him- made him forget the pain, that what they had was only temporary. Clyde never saw him as a potential lover, no matter how intimate they were with each other. Contrary to his emotionless facade, Craig was a romantic. Why else did he cling to the hope that Clyde might one day return his feelings? He was an absolute sap. So much so, when Clyde told him happily he was going to school to New York, Craig followed him there like a lovesick puppy.

But none of it mattered now. Thousands of miles separated them. Clyde was in New York, living it up with his frat brothers, while he was here on the other side of the country. Finally, he didn't have to see Clyde every day, a reminder of what he couldn't have. This was his chance to forget and move on from this painful unrequited love. Craig vowed until he could go back to being just best friends, he didn't want to see Clyde ever again.

A knock on the door interrupted his melancholy thoughts. Too lazy to answer it, Craig pretended he wasn't in. The knock persisted, polite at first, but then grew frantic and annoying. 

Craig threw off the covers with a growl and stalked toward the door. "What?!" Scowling, he yanked the door open. "What the hell do you want? Can't you see I don't-"

Clyde. It was Clyde standing in front of him, his arm raised mid-knock. "Oh," the brunet slowly lowered his arm back down to his side. "I thought for a second you weren't home. I was afraid I'd have to stay in a motel or something." When Craig didn't answer, his eyes hard and unreadable, Clyde shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "Can...I come in?" 

Silence. Craig said nothing, but he moved aside so Clyde could step in.

"What are you doing here?" Craig finally trusted his voice enough to speak. Even to his own ears, his voice betrayed none of his tumultuous thoughts.

"Your mom said you weren't coming home. So I came to visit you." His back to Craig, Clyde glanced around the tidy room. Everything about this place- from the books splayed out on the floor to the camera on the desk- it screamed his best friend. A ghost of a smile visited Clyde's lips. Looking around and being here, he was allowed a glimpse into Craig's life. Since they were kids, they practically knew everything about each other. But now that they lived apart, there were parts of Craig he wasn't privy to. Seeing him again, it made him more happy than he thought possible. God, how he missed him these past months.

Craig shook his head. "No."

"No?" Clyde turned around, perplexed by Craig's reaction. "What do you mean no?" 

"I mean, why are you here? Why aren't you spending Christmas with your dad? Why would you waste your money to come and visit me?" With each question asked, Craig's voice got a little louder. "It doesn't make sense."

"You're my friend," Clyde's brows furrow with confusion. He clarified, "My best friend. Course I'd come!"

"Right, best friend." Craig felt his almost mended heart shatter again at the dreaded words. "How nice of you."

Clyde held up both his hands in front of him as if stemming a storm of tirade he felt was coming. "Okay, you got me. It's not the whole reason why I'm here. No, visiting you sort of is, but there's more? I-I don't know how to say this. I kinda do...But like it's difficult to say so I-" 

"Just spit it out, Clyde! Stop stuttering," Craig snapped. His patience was running thin. His hands itched to pull Clyde into a kiss, but he refused to do anything like that with the brunet again. Things had to go back to normal with them. Craig can't continue living with this longing anymore.

"Okay! Sheesh. Don't yell at me! Maybe this will explain things better." Clyde reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Music started to play from it.

At first Craig was confused. Why the hell was Clyde playing "Lay Me Down" by Sam Smith? The question flew from his mind as Clyde stepped closer. He stiffened when Clyde gingerly took him by the hand and laid it against his chest. Craig felt the racing of the brunet's heart in his palm; heard the tremors in Clyde's voice as he began singing along with Sam Smith.

"What are you doing?" Craig softly asked

"Being romantic? You don't like it? I thought for sure that was going to work." 

"No, that's not what I'm saying. I'm asking you, _why_ you're doing this? That's gay as hell and you're not gay. You've been telling me you're not gay for the last three years."

Clyde ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "You know how I said I joined a frat?" At Craig's nod, he continued, "They throw a shit ton of parties. Lots of drinking, some drugs, I guess I don't know. There's sex. Tons of it. I have fun talking to the girls. They're soft, they're nice. I love how small they feel when I hug them-"  
  
"You want me to congratulate you?" Craig sneered. He didn't want to hear anymore of Clyde's sexual exploits. "Congrats. There, now get out."   
  
"Craig, just hear me out okay? I never made out with any of the girls. I never even kissed them. I tried, but they weren't you." Clyde's eyes glittered with unshed tears. They pleaded with the noirette to listen and understand. "They. Weren't. You. These past three months have been _hell_ for me. I tried to forget you, I tried to move on, but I couldn't okay? It was easy to tell myself I'm not gay, I'm not gay but I was lying. I was lying to you, I was lying to myself. I didn't _want_ to fall in love with you, but I did." Craig's heart lurched at the mention of love; it took everything he had to keep his expression neutral. 

"And...and it's not because of the sex either. I missed the little stuff. I missed how you'd come over and we'd fight about which system was better, Playstation or Xbox. I missed that dorky little grin you get when you pet Stripe when you think no one's looking. I miss having someone there when I'm breaking down crying over stupid things. I know you hate it, but you never abandoned me. You complained all the time and called me crybaby, but you always stuck by me." Clyde's hair stuck out on ends as he continued to run his hand through it. He was starting to panic. Craig gave him no signs of wavering, or if he even reciprocated his affections. 

Clyde swallowed the nervous lump in his throat. He already came this far. There was no backing out now. "What I want to say is, I miss you. A lot. And not in a friend way. In a totally gay, homosexual kind of way. It took three years, and us going to different colleges and not being able to see each other for me to figure it out, but I finally did. The minute I could, I booked a plane ticket and flew right over here."

"...So what do you want me to do?" Craig answered short and gruffly. Blood pounded in his ears. His heart raced a mile a minute. He should be jumping for joy (as if that's his style), but he had to make sure. He dreamt of this moment for _years_ , and every time he opened his eyes, his excitement was doused with disappointment. This was too good to be true. He must've fallen asleep while he was moping on the bed. It's impossible for Clyde to be here, confessing to him of all things. Any minute now, he was going to wake up and find himself alone, Clyde nowhere in sight. 

Clyde shrugged helplessly. He said what he needed to say. All that's left is for Craig to decide whether or not to accept him. "Tell me...you love me back?" he tossed out hopefully, "Maybe say something like you want to be with me too?" 

"Clyde, you go to school in New York. I'm in California. It's never going to work out." Ever the practical soul, even if Craig was dying to tell Clyde he felt the same way, he couldn't utter the words. God must hate him, or someone cursed him with the worst possible fucking luck. So what if Clyde miraculously liked him now? They'd break up in a couple of weeks once school started up again in January. Craig didn't want to know Clyde cheated, or worse, fall out of love with him. If they were going to break up soon or later, Craig rather not start at all. 

"Aw, Craig don't say that. It's not true."

"A long-distance relationship will never work between us."

"Craig, of course it's not if you- Wait a second, did you just say between us?" Clyde caught the subtle implication beneath Craig's words. "Does that mean you like me too?" 

Craig scowled. "I didn't say that. I said it wouldn't work!"

"No, that's exactly what you meant. You could've rejected me, or said you didn't like me, but you didn't." Clyde's voice slowly started to fill with realization. "You're already thinking about us dating, then breaking up. You're thinking about our future together." 

"There is no us! No 'our future'!" Craig snaps. "Didn't you hear a single word I said? Long distance relationships don't work!" 

Clyde grabbed Craig by the front of his shirt, effectively cutting through the bullshit with a kiss. "There was another song I wanted to play for you," he whispered against Craig's mouth. "It's a song by this guy named Frankie J. It went something like, ' I know, you know there's something here. But you cannot get past the fear. I can help you make it clear. Something, something, take a chance on me. Baby, take a chance on me...Craig, please take a chance on me."

Hands trembling slightly, Craig found purchase around Clyde's waist. Here they were. Two half-grown men barely out of high school. They didn't know what they want, but they had a whole entire future ahead of them to figure it out.

“Please, kiss me,” Clyde said.

Craig hesitated for a second, but the defense he built around himself crumbled after multiple beatings. He caved, leaning forward and kissing the edge of Clyde's jaw, then the corner of his mouth. They shared a breath. Very slowly, they came together. First it was gentle, but then it became a frantic welcome, consuming the hot, smooth, liquid world between them. 

They waited four years for this moment. What's another four years going to hurt?


End file.
